


Too Hot For

by WolfstarGarden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Hair, Hot Weather, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-06-27 09:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfstarGarden/pseuds/WolfstarGarden
Summary: Remus is trying to study when Sirius arrives to flaunt his new hairstyle.





	Too Hot For

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** S32 : It's too damn hot, so Sirius gets a haircut.  
>  **Pairing(s):** Remus/Sirius  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Even inside the tower, with the thick stone walls as insulation, it was too damned hot. Remus was stiff and sweaty and slightly dazed. Lost in thought, he brushed his quill vaguely against his mouth.

It was the wrong end.

The nib scratched angrily against his lip; Remus spluttered loud and inarticulate as he attempted to rub the stripe of smeared ink away. “Ohh, for fuck...” Grimacing, he stamped across the room and started rifling for Sirius’ mirror just as the latter walked in.

“Moony, that mirror is strictly for subversive conversations, what in Merlin’s name are you doing using it for beautifying purposes?”

“Sod off,” Remus said, scrubbing vainly at the impressive stain across his lower lip.

There was a frown in Sirius’ words. “What’ve you done?” He crossed the room.

As Sirius prised the mirror from him, Remus glanced up. Astonished words skittered sharp into the space between them. “What have _you_ done?”

“It’s brilliant, huh?” Sirius ruffled a hand through his hair, setting the dark strands flying. “Why are you trying to dry your mouth, Moony? You know it’s supposed to be wet in there, right?”

Rolling his eyes, Remus nonetheless dropped his hand to expose his ink-stained skin. Sirius immediately fell into genuine, unsympathetic laughter.

“You do realise you’re a wizard, right, you plank? Never mind Moony. Hold still, I’ll get it off for you.” Sirius raised his wand.

“Don’t point that thing at my face!” Remus shied back and sucked his lip into his mouth.

A sudden tension froze Sirius’ muscles in that odd way Remus had sometimes noticed. He ignored it as usual – Sirius was just odd after all. And his oddness appeared to be increasing, if what he’d done to his hair was any indicator.

After a beat the strangeness was gone. “Don’t be daft,” Sirius said softly. With neat and careful resolve, he stepped into Remus’ personal space, amazingly close. The summery heat seemed instantly three times more severe; it prickled Remus’ skin.

Sirius leaned nearer, steadying himself with a firm hand on Remus’ shoulder. His eyes fixed with dark intent on Remus’ mouth. He said, “Pout, Moony.”

A painful shiver fluttered through Remus’ insides. Swallowing, he awkwardly attempted to poke his lip out. A bead of sweat slid a slow path along the plane of Sirius’ cheek. Remus had a desperate urge to taste it.

Gently, Sirius tapped his wand tip with a feather-light precision to his lip, and a rush of bubbling chill told Remus the spell had worked. He pressed a tentative fingertip against his mouth.

A satisfied smile stretched over Sirius’ face. “Perfect, that’s you sorted. So then Moony ... what’s your opinion of my new summer locks then?”

Remus avoided Sirius’ frank gaze as he squinted at the haircut. “It’s very ... short.”

Sirius’ brows slid up, incredulous. A thread of disappointment wove into his words. “That’s all you’ve got? Astonishing as it may seem, I was going for that.”

Shaking off Sirius’ grip Remus stepped back and crossed his arms. He grumbled with false impatience, “Give us a proper look then.”

Grinning, Sirius immediately began showing off his impressively styled hair.

A spike of annoyance rolled along Remus’ nerves. Sirius’ hair fell in its customary effortless drape, perfectly highlighting his rather appealing bone structure. It simply wasn’t fair that Sirius should be so fundamentally and eternally attractive.

 Cocking his head, Sirius blinked softly at Remus through his black fringe, pouty bottom lip snagged between anxious teeth. Remus rubbed a clammy palm across his nape – Sirius never shared that expression with anyone else, not even James. He reminded Remus somewhat appropriately of a nervous puppy.

Everything about the way Sirius looked in that moment left Remus gasping with want.

He wanted the sticky heat of the day to be replaced with the solid warmth of Sirius’ body, as he fisted a hand through that expensive haircut and yanked him close ... or maybe not. Maybe it would be enough just to wind his fingers into Sirius’ hair and watch his eyes waft shut; to rub a gentle massage over his scalp. It was something that happened every time they drank alcohol together – inevitably Sirius would collapse against him, mouth dragging a delightful pattern of inebriated babbling into Remus’ chest, while Remus himself whirled aimless fingers through Sirius’ hair and floated towards slumber.

Sirius was waiting for an answer. Remus dragged his attention back to the moment, meeting Sirius’ expectant gaze. “It looks great, Padfoot. Why the change?”

“All that hair was just too damn hot on my neck. I thought about waiting until the end of term but it’s so hot already... Plus, I wanted you to see it.”

“You can’t use me as an excuse for your whims, Sirius.”

“Can if I like,” Sirius shrugged. Something dangerous gleamed deep in his eyes as he again stepped into the gap between them. “We could do your hair too, Moony. If you like.”

Frowning, Remus drew a slow breath and forced himself not to step away. He blinked vaguely at Sirius’ clavicle. “I don’t think so, Pads. It grows too quickly, you know that.”

“All the more reason to let me go at it. I wish you would, curls like this need some proper pruning. You look like a poodle.” Sudden and quick, Sirius’ hand snaked up Remus’ neck; he flinched. Sirius didn’t seem to notice. His unfocussed eyes were as loose as the idle fingers tickling against Remus’ skin, weaving steadily into his long curls.

Remus cleared his throat. “Unlike you Pads, I have to go back to the muggle world and fit in. So...”

“Please, I’ve seen muggle fashions! Besides, you can’t pretend to me that you socialise with muggles, we both know you spend all summer tucked away in your room reading Nabokov.”

“Dostoyevsky,” Remus said automatically. His heart was thudding rapid distraction, focused on Sirius’ hand twisting his hair in gentle coils.

“Your hair’s so soft.” Sirius’ voice was sudden and uncharacteristically quiet. “Softer than I would have guessed. It’s nice ... like a cloud, or a cushion.”

“Don’t be daft,” Remus snapped, twitching involuntary surprise.

Sirius ignored him, apparently absorbed. “Doesn’t it get hot under a mop like this?” he asked, voice yet more distant, fingers raking an alarmingly pleasant press across Remus’ neck.

Sirius was so damn close to him, a faraway smile softening the haughty lines of his handsome face. His broad fingers strummed across Remus’ nerves, pulling up gooseflesh with every tiny stroke.

Remus shivered and Sirius tipped his weight back slightly, shifting. “Sorry,” he mumbled, palm lying warm and still against Remus’ neck. “I forget how sensitive your skin is.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said. The words escaped him before thought caught them. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh...” Sirius’ outward breath was little more than a sigh; his teeth closed again around his lip.

Every impulse in Remus’ brain was screaming at him to bite Sirius’ lip himself, to leap forwards and replace the stiff, sweaty day with Sirius’ heated body. Further transfixed wonderings tripped across Remus’ thoughts – maybe Sirius would taste like the summer-fruit sugar quills he’d been sucking rather distractingly all through Charms. Or perhaps like the peppermint balm he’d been using to ward off sunburnt lips. Or maybe he’d taste of something different entirely, like salt and coffee and something herby.

A flood of warmth that had nothing to do with the weather raced up Remus’ spine in an electric fire, strangling the air in his lungs. He pulled his eyes away from Sirius’ delicious pout.

It was a mistake. Their eyes met instead, and held.

There was a needy, instinct-driven hunger in Sirius’ face, reflecting the equally powerful desire pounding against Remus’ temples.

Swallowing, he carefully wrapped his hands around Sirius’ wrists and lifted them away, leaving his skin strangely cold. Remus graced Sirius with a well-practiced lying smile. “You can’t possibly want to cut my hair that badly.”

Some emotion flashed through Sirius’ eyes, changing their bright clarity into a marsh of feelings that Remus did not want to explore or understand. A moment later, Sirius’ entire demeanour was glib and cheery again. He grinned, and Remus saw his lie reflected there. “I just want the physical contact, Moony.”

“Hm,” Remus said, moving away to recollect himself. His blood stirred hot beneath his skin and the sudden lack of touch was an acute, searing pain ... Remus wanted to throw Sirius to the floor and grab him by his new fucking haircut and just – he forced his imagination to stop there. That beautiful fantasy would keep until some fuzzy night time need wore down his resistance.

The room had become far too small and stuffy. Sirius seemed to feel it too. He took a few steps back, measured and precise. He spoke, and his voice sounded suddenly hollow despite its sincerity: “Hey, sorry Moony, didn’t mean to crowd you. And if you wanna keep that barnet, and sweat all down your collar, then who am I to intervene?”

“Your consideration is overwhelming,” Remus said, injecting his words with sarcasm.

“I do what I can,” Sirius agreed, watching him with an odd and indefinable look etched across his smile. He buried a hand deep in his short, summer-friendly hair. “Does it really look okay?”

“It looks great, Padfoot,” Remus murmured, a smile tipping the edge of his mouth.

Sirius smirked. “Want to come and pat me?”

Remus laughed and their odd tension cracked and splintered; it felt marvellous. “You’ll have to buy me a butterbeer first,” he teased.

Sirius put his hand out to take Remus’ and gently steered him towards the doorway. “I’ll buy you as many as you like, Moony. Or at least, as many as it takes to get you buzzed enough to play with my hair.”

“We’ll see,” Remus said, pretending the rush of warmth in his ears was just from the hot wind blowing through the open windows. But the hair play ... it was a sure thing.

Remus looked forward to it.


End file.
